


a pain in the neck

by A_E_Meadows



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Geralt is once again SOFT, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_E_Meadows/pseuds/A_E_Meadows
Summary: Jaskier has suffered from migraines from a young age.This never caused too much of a problem before (aside from the pain) until he and Geraltfind themselves in front of a very angry Kikimora and one decides to make an appearance.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 57
Kudos: 1581





	a pain in the neck

**Author's Note:**

> Back again so quickly but I can't get enough of these two at the moment!  
> I hope you enjoy! <3

Jaskier can't remember a time when he didn't suffer from migraines. A deep, aching pain that tramples over all train of thought until all he can do is lay in the dark and wait until it passes. This had never been much of an issue before, being that he was usually in an inn or a bar with a room nearby, and was able to leave his performance, if necessary, to peace and quiet.

While on the road with Geralt, however, Jaskier lived in constant fear that he would be struck by a migraine and the Witcher wouldn't have the patience to wait it out with him. This fear was growing steadily as Jaskier ambled after Geralt, the stiffness in his neck becoming more and more pronounced with each step he took. He cringed and reached a hand up to try and rub some of the building tension out of the base of his neck. The muscles there were hard and painful, and he stumbled a bit as he caught a particularly sore spot.

He glanced up and noticed that Geralt hadn't turned around to check on him.  
"Oh, I'm fine! Don't mind me! Just lying in a ditch here!"  
Geralt made a disapproving sound.  
"I would have stopped had you actually fallen," Geralt replied, still without turning around.  
Maybe now was the time he should mention his migraines. He could play it off, maybe say they aren't too bad. At least then Geralt would be prepared should Jaskier need to stop.  
"Geralt-"  
"Quiet,"  
Geralt had come to a halt near the entrance of a clearing. They were currently on the hunt for a Kikimora that was causing issues for a nearby village and there were signs of the monster all around them. He couldn't say anything to Geralt now could he? If they were close maybe they could get the Kikimora dealt with before his migraine fully developed. And that way Geralt wouldn't even have to know.

Geralt turned to study Jaskier at his side.  
"Are you sure you want to come?" he asked, a small frown on his face.  
"Of course, what’s an itty bitty Kikimora to a bard?"  
Geralt sighed, exasperated, and shook his head.  
"Stay close then, do not do anything to attract its attention and make sure to run if I say run,"  
Jaskier nodded, carefully. He was a little too distracted by the building pain travelling up the back of his neck to be paying his full attention to Geralt, he'll admit.  
Geralt frowned again, clearly noticing something was not quite right with his bard, but before he could say anything a scream was heard. Geralt immediately turned in that direction and took off at a speed that had Jaskier racing to catch up.

They reached the clearing and nearly ran straight into a young girl holding a basket full of herbs. She had scratches on her cheeks and dirt on her clothes from where she had fallen but was otherwise unharmed.  
"Run straight back to the village and make sure no one else comes here," Geralt said to her.  
She nodded tearfully and ran.

Geralt stepped forward into the empty clearing - waiting for the Kikimora to make its move.  
Jaskier shut his eyes tight as the pounding began, a drumming that stopped for nothing. He went to Geralt's side, lost his balance again and gripped tightly onto Geralt's sleeve to right himself. The light was too bright, burning his eyes and intensifying the throbbing in his head. He looked over at Geralt and, judging by the expression on the Witcher's face, he was still clinging on to the other man's sleeve. He let go, stumbling back a little.  
"Jaskier...-"  
A roar interrupted them then as the Kikimora came out of the trees with such speed that Jaskier didn't even have time to move.

He didn't have to, though, as he was tackled to the ground in a blur of white and black. The landing was surprising soft, though - the back of his head cradled in a strong grip.  
He blinked up into the yellow eyes of the Witcher.  
"Stay. Down." Geralt growled, before launching himself up off Jaskier and towards the Kikimora.

Jaskier did indeed stay down, unsure if he could get up if he tried. The pounding in his head was overwhelming now, exacerbated by the fall. Better a migraine than death by Kikimora, he reasoned.  
He could hear the clanging of Geralt's sword against the armoured body of the beast and desperately wished he could sit up and see what was happening.

Jaskier heard Geralt shout then, a pained sound that sent terror like ice through his veins. He squeezed his hands into fists, nails digging into the soft skin of his palms and dragged himself to sitting. He squinted over towards the fight and saw Geralt, hunched over - hand on a bloody gash in his leg. Jaskier watched in horror as the Kikimora took the opportunity to raise a thorned leg to strike Geralt's back.

Jaskier didn't think.  
He doesn't know how but he made it to Geralt just in time - barrelling into the other man and knocking the breath out of himself. Geralt leapt back up, now out of the monster’s path, and lunged forward - impaling his sword through the Kikimora's head. When the beast collapsed, Geralt turned his attention immediately to Jaskier - who was on his hands and knees in the leaves beside him.  
"We're even!" Jaskier announced weakly, before his arms gave out and he began to fall forward.  
Geralt reacted fast, wrapping an arm around Jaskier's middle and hauling him up into a sitting position.  
"Gonna be sick," the bard muttered, face pale.  
Geralt said nothing, but secured a strong grip around Jaskier to prevent him from falling while he was sick.  
Jaskier let out a sob, the pain now entirely unbearable.  
"Are you done?" Geralt asked, voice soft.  
Jaskier tried to nod, unable to move his head much at all. Tears trailed down his cheeks and dripped onto his shirt.  
He felt Geralt shift, ready to stand and take both their weight.  
"I'm going to pick you up now," Geralt said, keeping his voice at a low level. "Keep your eyes shut,"

Geralt stood then, carrying Jaskier with one arm under his knees and the other around his back. Jaskier kept his eyes shut and focused on Geralt's heartbeat and the wisp of hair that tickled his face. Geralt was a strong and steady presence - the comfort lulling Jaskier into a light sleep.

After a while Geralt stopped walking, causing Jaskier to open his eyes and flinch at the light that greeted him.  
"Did I or did I not say ‘keep your eyes shut’." The Witcher said, laying Jaskier gently down on the ground. Jaskier decided not to hit back with a witty one-liner unsure about whether his stomach would rebel again or not. Geralt's footsteps retreated then, causing Jaskier to panic, before they reappeared a minute later. There was a shuffling of leaves next to him before he was tugged over onto a bedroll.  
Jaskier lay back gratefully, glad to be off the forest floor. This was nothing compared to an actual bed, but this was the best there was for now.

He flinched when something cold and wet covered his closed eyes. The relief of the damp cloth caused all the breath to woosh out of Jaskier's lungs as he sank even further back into the bedroll.  
"Is there anything else I can do?" Geralt asked quietly.  
Jaskier could sense that Geralt was sitting on the floor next to him, near his head.  
"Well ... my mother used to stroke my hair when it got really bad," Jaskier whispered, immediately regretting it when he was met by silence.

He was about to take it back, or make a joke or _something_ to fill the silence when a warm hand landed lightly on his head, just above the cloth over his eyes.  
He sucked in a surprised breath and held still.  
Geralt was gentle, carding his hand through Jaskier's hair over and over, stopping occasionally to re-wet the cloth.  
Jaskier relaxed gradually, the comfort easing him slowly into sleep - the warmth by his side and the hand in his hair protecting him from harm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who was so kind about 'lost and found a thousand times'!
> 
> This is such a nice fandom to write in, I'll try to post often!  
> I like the h/c trope (as you can probably tell) so if anyone has anything they want to see let me know!
> 
> Thank you for reading! It means the world!<3


End file.
